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Ataraxia (The Mighty Boosh RPS: Noel/Julian; G)
Title: Ataraxia
Pairing: Noel Fielding/Julian Barratt (RPS)
Rating: G
Warnings: Fluff
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys. Obviously.
Summary: Ataraxia: a state of unperturbedness or quietude.
Author's Notes: first Boosh!fic I've written in a really long time. It'd be more than a year, for sure.
Words: 188


With a groan, Julian eased into the back seat of the cab; his weight sinking against the vinyl, squeaking as he shifted. Noel tumbled in beside him, the car door slamming closed and narrowly avoiding a scrape with his legs.

“Alright, little man?” Julian asked; his voice hoarse, weary. It had been a long night.

Noel nodded. He cleared his throat. The taste of vodka and cigarettes lay, thick and heavy, on his tongue. “Yeah, ‘m alright,” he croaked.

Sitting back, he stared absently out of the window. The streets lurched past. Streetlights shimmered on the wet pavement; light wavered, glistening.

He inched across the back seat and, nudging Julian’s arm aside, rested his head against Julian’s shoulder. He could feel the heat of Julian’s body, of the malleable flesh that pulsed beside him. He could hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, and detect the scent of him – warm, comfortable, familiar and so unmistakably Julian - prickling against the cold, stale air of the cab.

Lulled by the rise and fall of Julian’s chest, Noel closed his eyes; and the car rolled on steadily into the night.